


Outside of Working Hours

by themindofevil



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Blowjobs, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 08:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16950207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themindofevil/pseuds/themindofevil
Summary: You are the Doctor's assistant, and the two of you have been invited to a conference in Geneva with the Brigadier. It has proven to be rather boring, so you mutually agree on a way to blow off some steam.





	Outside of Working Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Rogue Blue. I hope you enjoy!

Though Switzerland is nice, you haven’t the faintest idea as to why you and the Doctor were instructed by the top officials of UNIT to join the Brigadier for the annual conference in Geneva. You aren’t especially bright or good at field work, so confusion has been a regular theme over the weekend. Nonetheless, you have maintained a facade of interest and professionalism--just to keep the Doctor and Brigadier in good name and spirits.

It is finally the end of the conference, and you are due to go home tomorrow. You’re slipping into your fancy ride when the Brigadier informs you that he will be staying back for a while longer, to which the Doctor laughs.

“The man’s undoubtedly found some poor lady to take back to his hotel room tonight, something which I doubt his wife will ever find out about.” He clicks his seatbelt and looks toward you, smiling once you are settled into your seat.

“I don’t blame him, honestly. I know infidelity is wrong and all, but I think after that dreary weekend we all need a good spot of sex. You know what they say, orgasms are apparently great stress relievers.”

A stillness overtakes the Doctor, and you can see mischievousness flash behind his eyes. “Does that all include you, then?” He says over the purr of the car’s engine as it speeds into the night.

You are coy and dashing in your evening wear, holding back from doing anything more than teasing, yet looking drop dead gorgeous as you do so. “Perhaps,” You peer up at him through heavy lashes, giving him a quick wink. “But maybe that is up for you to decide,”

The Doctor puts his hand on your thigh, not quite gripping it but remaining assertive. “Oh, please,” He smiles, pressing his lips to your ear, “You didn’t dress so fine for no reason. It may have been official UNIT business, but not even the Brig dressed as nice as you. Besides, I know you’ve spent this whole time abroad wanting me--you were just too shy to ask.” His grip on your thigh tightens and you let out a little whimper, realising that you’re about to get what you want and more.

Without thinking, you are kissing in the back seat. It is sexy and slow, warm but neat. His lips feel so goddamn  _ good _ , better than anyone else’s that you’ve kissed. The stubble on his chin tickles and you giggle, regaining your composure with a hand in his silver hair. This isn’t the first time the two of you have fooled around, but every time you forget just how splendid it is to do so.

“Doctor,” You mumble, lips barely parting from his. You smooth a crease on the shoulder of his velvet coat, the sensation of its material heightening your senses. Your fingers slide down his lapel, then down to the buttons that you so carefully undo. You push the edge of his jacket aside and feel the warmth of his skin that rests below the thin fabric of his frilled shirt.

You are truly getting hot and heavy when the car pulls up to your hotel, and with no such goodbye to the driver or doorman, the two of you stumble into the lobby looking a right mess. Up the elevator you go, him pinning you against the wall as he nibbles and sucks on your neck. You don’t bother to tell him not to leave hickeys, for tomorrow the Brigadier will surely be able to decipher what the events of the night have been regardless.

You hang off the Doctor as he unlocks the door to his room, and you know that you won’t be spending the night in your own one. As soon as the door is closed behind you, he’s stripping you of your formalities (both physical and rhetorical) and you feel as though you could melt into a puddle beneath him. Now you stand in the bitter, winter room, the only warmth being that which radiates off the Doctor.

Despite this not being the first time alone with him, you can’t help but feel vulnerable in your undressed state. This proves to be working in the Doctor’s favour though as he dances his fingers across your skin and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

“My, it sure is lovely to see you like this.” He trails his fingers down further--past your chest, down to your navel until they are above the waistband of your underwear. You’re quivering now, lips parted as you feel the utter need to beg him to touch you. “Weren’t you the instigator of this little escapade? Surely you’d have a touch more confidence.”

You grab the collar of his shirt and bring him into another kiss, moaning swiftly as his hand cups your behind. Your instant reaction is to curl your toes into the ground and arch your back, both of your hands now clutching his shirt as you are pressed against the door. With a modicum of effort, you let his coat drop to the floor, surprise flooding you that he is not bothered by it. Instead, he grabs your hair and pulls your face away from his.

He looks into your eyes, his own dark and in control. “My dear, don’t you think you should please me first? After all, all good things come to those who wait.” 

You smile up at him, bottom lip tucked under your front teeth. The Doctor still has a grip on your hair when you drop to your knees, your fingers already fumbling for the button of his trousers. Your blood is singing in your veins as you are met with the sight of the bulge in his silken underwear, which you soon set free and wrap your hand around. You run your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, him ushering you to suck it. Eventually, after a whole lot of teasing, you do.

You feel lucky that your gag reflex isn’t so horrible when the back of your throat is met with his cock, but you still make a sound that leaves him pulling your head back a little and waiting until you’re used to it enough for him to continue. He never usually jumps straight into fucking your throat, but you guess he just needs to relieve the tension of the weekend. Still, you don’t mind as he continues.

When the autonomous tears spill from your eyes, he pulls back and wipes them away. “You’re precious,” He says, brushing your hair back. “Very precious.”

You smile up at him and kiss the tip of his cock, trailing kisses down his shaft, then licking a line back up again. Your lips wrap around the head and your tongue swirls around it, your tongue following as you slide your mouth down his length.

The Doctor has never been one to really show pleasure, so you feel a sense of gratification when he lets out a soft moan. You can feel him tense as his moans increase, and when you can tell he is right on the brink, he pulls away. “Oh,” He says, tilting your head up to look at him, “I guess I had best give you something too.”

You already know what he means, and you pull yourself to your feet as he leads you to the unmade bed in the centre of the room. He strips off the rest of his clothes as well as his shoes, and as you’re in a state of anticipation on the bed, he reaches into his suitcase. He gives you a quick kiss before he ushers you onto your knees, and you can almost feel him gloat as he smiles at everything you have.

“Just… relax,” He says, voice hushed and calm. You take a deep breath, happy that you’re finally getting the touch you’ve been craving. One lubed finger teases you, then when you think you can’t bear to wait anymore, he slowly but surely puts it into you. It draws hitched breath, especially once he keeps moving it and adds another.

“Doctor,” You moan, fingers clutching the sheets as your face is buried in them. He speeds up, going deeper, finding exactly where it feels best. His fingers piston against your sweet spot, and you whimper and sporadically release his name. It feels so good, and you can’t seem to stay quiet. He scissors his fingers a little, and you know he’s preparing you for a good fucking. 

When the Doctor withdraws, you let yourself breathe through how god damn aroused you. You have to cool your anxiety and relax your body because without calmness mixed with his sizeable length, that could possibly hurt. Still, you bite your lip when he presses his lubed cock against your entrance, you now mad with lust.

You groan in utmost pleasure as he slowly slides into you, his grip on your hips tight enough that it borders on being uncomfortable. He leans down and kisses between your shoulder blades once he is in deep enough, and then he retracts and thrusts back in.

The Doctor’s pace starts slow, but eventually, he picks up the pace--but only once you’re moaning his name like it’s the only thing you’re capable of saying. You can’t seem to get enough of him or the sex, despite him fucking you like an absolute madman. 

Your thighs are now trembling and your knees ache but you push these things to the edge of your consciousness as the pleasure within you grows. Your arousal only increases as the Doctor, between grunts, mumbles salacious things to you that drive you absolutely wild and leave you cursing his infernal ability to take advantage of language. 

The pair of you have been fucking for quite some time when he reaches the edge, his head is thrown back as he releases himself into you. Luckily for you, he has impressive stamina so despite this he continues to thrust into you. He makes an extra effort to hit your sweet spot, and you’re not quite sure if it is because he wants you to climax or just to optimise your pleasure. Nonetheless, you’re feeling like angels singing merrily on high.

Your orgasm, which has been built up to for quite some time, is glorious and fills you with satisfaction. Your body shudders and you repeat the Doctor’s name between hitched breaths that don’t seem to stop flowing. You’re left panting when you’re finished, and the Doctor is careful as he pulls out and lets the mess drip out of you.

“Enjoy that, my dear?” He says, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lower back.

You look behind you and nod, regaining your composure. “Certainly, Doctor. But I pity the cleaner who has to wash these goodness forsaken sheets.”

The Doctor laughs at that and flops onto the bed beside you, looking at you once you’re laying flat beside him. Looking into his eyes always makes you comfortable, now even more so. 

“Thank you,” You say, contentment light in your chest.

He smiles. “The pleasure is all mine. Well, yours as well.”


End file.
